Yesterday, Lillian woke up from her nap with a fever. She and I spent the rest of the afternoon snuggling on the sofa, where she slept on and off until bedtime. Then this morning Max woke up complaining of aches and pains. Within the hour he also had a fever. For Max to get sick is almost expected. He has been sick the week before his birthday every year since the week before he turned one. (He'll be 9 on Saturday) And typically, he grows at least an inch that same week. So, maybe Lillian is starting the same pattern. (She'll be one on Sunday) It certainly wouldn't hurt her to get out of the 6-9 month clothes she's been wearing for the last six months!
But I have to admit that when Max told me he didn't feel well this morning, I didn't believe him. He has used that excuse more than once to get out of doing school work. He knows very well that when one of my kids is sick, everything stops. I will sit on the sofa with a sick kid in my lap all day long! On the days that Max fakes it though, he suddenly starts feeling better around 4 o'clock. Unfortunately for him, my rule is: if you're too sick to do school work, you're too sick to play!
Here's a fun poem along those lines that I enjoyed as a child:
Sick
by Shel Silverstein
"I cannot go to school today,"
Said little Peggy Ann McKay.
"I have the measles and the mumps,
A gash, a rash and purple bumps.
My mouth is wet, my throat is dry,
I'm going blind in my right eye.
My tonsils are as big as rocks,
I've counted sixteen chicken pox
And there's one more--that's seventeen,
And don't you think my face looks green?
My leg is cut--my eyes are blue--
It might be instamatic flu.
I cough and sneeze and gasp and choke,
I'm sure that my left leg is broke--
My hip hurts when I move my chin,
My belly button's caving in,
My back is wrenched, my ankle's sprained,
My 'pendix pains each time it rains.
My nose is cold, my toes are numb.
I have a sliver in my thumb.
My neck is stiff, my voice is weak,
I hardly whisper when I speak.
My tongue is filling up my mouth,
I think my hair is falling out.
My elbow's bent, my spine ain't straight,
My temperature is one-o-eight.
My brain is shrunk, I cannot hear,
There is a hole inside my ear.
I have a hangnail, and my heart is--what?
What's that? What's that you say?
You say today is. . .Saturday?
G'bye, I'm going out to play!"
by Shel Silverstein
"I cannot go to school today,"
Said little Peggy Ann McKay.
"I have the measles and the mumps,
A gash, a rash and purple bumps.
My mouth is wet, my throat is dry,
I'm going blind in my right eye.
My tonsils are as big as rocks,
I've counted sixteen chicken pox
And there's one more--that's seventeen,
And don't you think my face looks green?
My leg is cut--my eyes are blue--
It might be instamatic flu.
I cough and sneeze and gasp and choke,
I'm sure that my left leg is broke--
My hip hurts when I move my chin,
My belly button's caving in,
My back is wrenched, my ankle's sprained,
My 'pendix pains each time it rains.
My nose is cold, my toes are numb.
I have a sliver in my thumb.
My neck is stiff, my voice is weak,
I hardly whisper when I speak.
My tongue is filling up my mouth,
I think my hair is falling out.
My elbow's bent, my spine ain't straight,
My temperature is one-o-eight.
My brain is shrunk, I cannot hear,
There is a hole inside my ear.
I have a hangnail, and my heart is--what?
What's that? What's that you say?
You say today is. . .Saturday?
G'bye, I'm going out to play!"
By the way, Lillian is feeling much better tonight and I expect Max to be back to normal in the morning!
3 comments:
I remember that poem!! We used to love reading Shel Silverstein!
I love that poem. Hope everyone is better soon!!
Jamie has tons of patience, sympathy, and nursing skills when one of her kiddos is sick. Ginger and I don't know how to sit still that long! Your children will always remember how nurturing you were when they were small - and they will MISS it one day, just like I did!
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